


Evil Has Never

by pasdexcuses



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Community: kink_bingo, M/M, Needles, Self Harm, Spaces Scenes and Settings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-09
Updated: 2012-08-09
Packaged: 2017-11-11 18:35:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/481602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pasdexcuses/pseuds/pasdexcuses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Number 12 Grimmauld Place is the house children see in their nightmares. It is that dark place where people with demons become insane and people without them start seeing monsters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evil Has Never

**Author's Note:**

> Written for kink_bingo prompts "spaces, scenes and settings" and "piercings/needleplay".  
> Trigger Warning: Self-harm

**Disclaimer:**  The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling, and no money is being made out of this. Title from Union of Knives' song by the same name. 

**Evil Has Never**

 

The worst part is not seeing Sirius hunched over the ancient sink, cleaning up his own blood. 

 

The worst part is having to swallow down every bit of fear and self-disgust to ask if he, Remus, did that and then have the door shut in his face.

 

Which is Sirius’ way of telling him to stop being a daft cow and leave him alone. It is harsh and cuts something in Remus so hard that he realizes there is something wrong. Because as selfish as Sirius has always been, as much as this house is bringing out the worst in him, Sirius only hurts him — it used to be them, Remus thinks — when he is trying to hide.

 

Turning around, Remus makes his way back to the bathroom. Instead of asking, Remus throws the door open. He closes it behind himself and takes a look at Sirius’ arm. The cut is shallow but what strikes Remus is the fact that a needle is what is causing all the blood. 

 

“You did this,” Remus states when Sirius looks away. 

 

“Go away, Remus.”

 

And for the first time since he stepped foot in Number 12 Grimmauld Place, Mrs. Black’s screeches don’t even register in Remus mind as he makes his way downstairs.

 

*

 

It takes two days for Sirius to corner Remus in his room. It isn’t technically Remus’ room. In fact, if you heard Mrs. Black, you would know that the room was devised to host welcomed guests and not _filthy, undesirable half-breeds_. But it was the room Sirius called his when Remus moved in, so Remus may as well call it his own.

 

Sirius comes in after a knock, a wooden box in hand. The wood is finely carved, an exquisite work that doesn't seem to fit in Sirius' hands. But it's Sirius who sits on Remus' bed, Sirius who slides the top, Sirius who reveals the finely carved wooden box is not a box but an  _etui._  Full of needles. Needles in every size and material that Remus could possibly think of.

 

“What is this?” Remus asks.

 

Sirius shakes his head. “I want you to use them. On me,” he replies.

 

Remus stays too quiet. There are footsteps coming from downstairs. There are always footsteps coming from downstairs, they're never really alone. Not in this house. Remus stares at the etui, frowns. A part of him wants to be angry. Angry that Sirius wants this, angry that Sirius never told him about this, angry that some of the needles look decades old. But the other part of him, the part that looks around himself, at the walls and their decaying paint, the part that hears Mrs Black, even through the closed doors, that part of Remus hurts.

 

Remus looks up from the needles. Sirius looks down, cheeks pinking. He strokes the nape of his neck before closing the etui and standing up. 

 

Remus stands up as well, yanking Sirius by the arm before he can leave. “Why?”

 

“Forget it, Remus.”

 

“No, you’re asking me to hurt you. I think I deserve to know why.”

 

“It was a stupid thing to ask.”

 

“And yet you did.”

 

“I also said ‘forget it’.”

 

“Sirius!” Remus hisses, he never raises his voice, not in this house. “This isn’t a game. _Our lives_ aren’t games. We are not children anymore.”

 

“Fuck you,” Sirius snarls, yanking his arm out of Remus’ grip.

 

And Remus can only think _oh, Sirius_. On impulse, because he has to do something, because this cannot stay like this, because Remus understands more than anyone will, Remus grabs Sirius and hugs him. He wraps his arms around Sirius shoulders and holds on tight for as long as it takes for Sirius to relax.

 

Eventually, Sirius drops his head on Remus shoulder. He whispers, “How do you do it, Moony? In Azkaban I could only think of Peter and revenge. It kept me alive. But here. I have so much time, Remus. And this bloody house. This fucking house.”

 

Remus strokes his hair. He doesn’t know for how long they do this, Sirius talking about things without mentioning them, and Remus listening, knowing exactly what the empty spaces mean. 

 

When they sit down, the whole house creaks under them. 

 

*

 

Sirius explains the needles that night. He explains that his mother would have noticed knives going missing around the house but not needles. He explains how he got into it, the pain and the relief, the brief, ethereal relief of a needle. Sirius says he only did it a handful of times, right before he decided to move out and once after the Snape incident in Sixth Year. 

 

“I know this is fucked up,” Sirius says, licking his lips. “But I can’t help it. This house…” Sirius’ voice drifts off, letting the silence finish the sentence. “I got a real piercing, once, do you remember?” Sirius asks after a moment.

 

And Remus chuckles, because yes, he remembers. “You looked ridiculous.”

 

“Mrs Potter made me take it off.” Sirius recalls, fondly before shutting up again.

 

“Well, it looked atrocious,” Remus says, mostly to fill in spaces and take over the silences that haunt them.

 

*

 

Number 12 Grimmauld Place is the house children see in their nightmares. It is that dark place where people with demons become insane and people without them start seeing monsters. 

 

Remus sees ghosts in every corner he turns. 

 

He can only imagine what the place does to Sirius.

 

So Remus takes Sirius’ wooden box full of needles and listens to Sirius’ instructions.

 

He pinches the skin on Sirius’ back between his index and his thumb, sliding a bone needle through. Remus wipes the blood around the edges with a warm towel before moving onto the next. He rubs circles on Sirius back and kisses the skins round the needles as he goes. 

 

When he is done, Remus leans down to whisper in Sirius’ ear, “What next?”

 

*

 

Remus is looking at the needles one night when Sirius says, “I collect them.”

 

Blinking, Remus turns from the etui to Sirius. “What?”

 

“The needles. That’s why they’re so different. I find them and sterilize them before I put them in. I don’t buy them.”

 

“Why are you telling me this?”

 

Shrugging, Sirius replies, “I don’t know.”

 

“Do you remember where you got them? Every single one?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Maybe you should tell me.”

 

So Sirius does. 

 

He tells stories about every single needle in the etui. He speaks of things without mentioning them, and Remus listens, understanding the unnamed. And whatever gap is left by those words Sirius never says and Remus does not think, the silence of Number 12 Grimmauld Place fills in. 


End file.
